


wearing the rags of her wedding dress

by pigeonanarchy



Series: when the battle has done [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (In Space) - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: F/F, Gen, who needs editing when you can just close your eyes and hope instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonanarchy/pseuds/pigeonanarchy
Summary: it's be sad about rose o'clock
Relationships: Cinders/Rose (Once Upon A Time In Space)
Series: when the battle has done [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669801
Kudos: 17





	wearing the rags of her wedding dress

No one ever expected Rose and Snow to be related at first. Their names were well known - with such a noble family, it would have been strange for anyone to  _ not _ have heard of the pair - but even when people heard ‘fraternal twins’ and ‘near complete opposites’, they still seemed to expect some obvious similarity.

Before they were even ten it was apparent that their temperaments were as different as their appearances. Whenever anyone expressed shock that the two children were related -  _ twins, _ even - Snow would always smile and make a joke of it, as calm and polite during the hundredth rendition of this conversation as she had been the first. Rose’s patience, on the other hand, ran out within a week of arriving at court, and she would respond with sarcasm and then when she didn’t have the patience for sarcasm, an irritated look and an abrupt end to the conversation.

Snow tried to explain why courtiers would always focus on how they looked to her twin - why the first, and often only, topic of conversation that came up when someone would approach them to talk was their appearances. She wanted her words to reach them, she said, resigned, and if her hair and clothes and manner determined how closely others would listen then so be it. There were more important problems to address and she could come back to that once things were better.

Rose always figured that anyone reasonable should have known that the words her sister’s arguments were built from were far more powerful than her hairstyle. Anyone foolish enough to speak over Snow would be made aware that Rose’s pretty face did not have any bearing on how hard she could throw a punch.

-

Joining the army when she came of age was the only path that made sense to Rose. She knew Snow could solve problems by lining up the right words and applying them at the right time but she could never make sense of the rules Snow followed as easily as breathing. Sometimes people would try to tell her there weren’t rules - to just say what she meant clearly - but then they would always get upset at her for doing something wrong. Snow knew there were rules, and tried to explain them, but Rose could never keep them straight.

The rules in the army made sense. Go  _ here, _ fight  _ these _ people, load your rifle like  _ this, _ listen to  _ that _ person. If Snow would help people by using her words to build something better, Rose decided she would help people by protecting them, so that they could live to see what Snow would create.

Snow didn’t agree, at first. When she did, Rose could tell it wasn’t so much agreement as resignation, but that was okay. Rose knew that fighting had costs - that you could never save everyone. Snow had to give up on the people fighting King Cole to protect the people living under him. Rose had to give up on Jackson who had joined up at the same time as her to get her commanding officer to safety. She had to give up on saving one member of her squad so she could protect another two. She had to give up on the wounded she stepped over to defeat the enemy so that she could protect the people behind the front lines. They both had to prioritize, and that hurt, but Rose knew it was worth it.

-

When she met Cinders, she was so immensely glad that Cinders was a captive - kept on King Cole’s land, where Rose could protect her. Safe from King Cole’s bombardments of civilian targets, as he had no reason to attack land already under his control. Safe from Rose herself, as she killed every soldier who opposed her. Cinders was gentle, and beautiful, and safe, and Rose wanted desperately to make sure she never needed to learn to give up on anyone.

Cinders had seen her father dead, her world betrayed by her stepmother, and was trapped in a cage, kept alive by soldiers who only cared to make sure she looked healthy enough that she could be paraded around occasionally to show King Cole’s mercy. Even through all that, she still had hope that everything could turn out well. Not well  _ enough, _ or  _ as _ well _ as possible, _ but just well, without any sacrifices required - and when she smiled, Rose could almost believe that was possible too.

Her transfer away from where Cinders was being held to a different battlefield was the first time she asked herself if maybe she could stop making sacrifices. Hadn’t she made plenty? Couldn’t someone else take over for her? And then Snow messaged her, detailing a way she could be with Cinders for as long as she had left, and she smiled the smile she had learned from Cinders.

Their wedding was beautiful - not just because she was in love and biased, although she  _ was, _ and would have considered a wedding held in the sewers beautiful for the presence of Cinder’s joyous smile. It was beautiful when she arrived at the same time as Cinders, and their eyes met for the first time in weeks. It was beautiful as they stood at the altar together listening to the ceremony. It was beautiful as Cinders reached to slip a ring onto her finger.

It was not beautiful when the first gunshots rang out, shattering the peace that she and Cinders had found together, and there was no beauty in the terror and horror on Cinders’ face as the guests fell and Rose was dragged away.

It was not beautiful - that last glimpse she caught of the altar at which she and Cinders had stood, which she caught after breaking free for a couple seconds of the soldiers trying to tear her away from Cinders. All she saw was blood, and she had no way to tell how much was Cinders’.

-

She snapped to awareness at the sound of a gunshot, the way she always had in the army. She felt sluggish and tired, and didn’t really know what was happening, but she knew Snow. Snow was standing in front of her, and she took a step forward on legs far less steady than she expected. She saw Snow reach for her. She saw Snow die.

No amount of disorientation or confusion would have stopped her from tearing through Snow’s killers like a baseball bat through jello. No amount of loyalty to the crown or dedication to the army would have given her even the slightest hesitation while she had that image of Snow falling seared into her mind.

And then they were dead, and she stopped.

And then she saw Cinders. Cinders, with wrinkles on her face that hadn’t even begun to show last time they had seen each other. Cinders, with white hair and scars and an outfit suited for a battlefield rather than a wedding. Cinders, who she had been torn from. Cinders, who hadn’t given up and had found her again. Snow was dead, and she could tell there was a battle still raging, but Rose thought, perhaps we can have our peace.

She felt a pain in her back. She twisted, intending to fight off whatever new threat would threaten her Cinders, knowing it would be the last thing she would do, but she was exhausted. The last thing she saw as the world faded out was Cinders’ horror as they were separated yet again.


End file.
